


A Trip Worth Making

by klarolineagainnaturally



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Human AU, Klaroline, Royalty, Smut, farm au, is that a thing lol, journalist caroline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarolineagainnaturally/pseuds/klarolineagainnaturally
Summary: Small town journalist Caroline Forbes seeks out the story of a lifetime.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 88





	A Trip Worth Making

“How did you find me?” his charming accent enquired with a twitch of his lip as he walked across the wet grass.

Niklaus Mikaelson had abdicated from his place in the Royal Family some ten years prior upon his eighteenth birthday. There was a frenzy of reporters all over the world, hoping to get the scoop, but as usual, the Mikaelsons were tight-lipped. Niklaus, or _Klaus_ as he insisted she call him, seemed to disappear into the night and a simple mention of the Prince was an immediate journalism _blacklist_ in his country.

Caroline was rather embarrassed to admit it, but a photo of him at his eldest brother’s wedding had been stuck on her wall since she was thirteen and one day on a visit home, it got her thinking: what if someone found him? It would be the story of a _lifetime_ , one that was sure to bring her notoriety and get her out of that small, local newspaper.

Her heart practically shot out of her when she found him in the middle of the field. He was in a plaid shirt overlaid by a muted fleece, and a pair of large, green rubber boots, a far cry from the suits he had worn at all royal commitments. He looked as stunned by her presence as she was by his, but when she introduced herself and her _firm_ intent to interview him, that face of his, covered in generous facial hair, became so _smug_.

She struggled to keep up, her wedged heels competing against the terrain, but maintained an even voice, “I told you: I’m good at what I do.”

He paused in his steps to throw a glance her way. “Evidently,” he soon grinned, “but I would still prefer hearing the details, sweetheart.”

“It’s a long story,” she winced, refraining a huff when he continued trudging towards the dirtied, white barn.

“In case you haven’t noticed, though I’m _sure_ you have,” his eyes sparkled with sapphire when he admired her hands clinging to a pen and notepad, “I have a lot of time to spare.”

He finally turned to face her at the entrance of the barn and she nearly collided with his modestly toned frame. Her breath caught at the sight of his challenging stare, even more so when she realised his hands were steadying her by the elbows.

Caroline grazed her tongue against her back, top teeth as she suppressed a smile. She pulled her arms away from his grasp and replied with a haughty, “Fine. Where would you like to do this?”

She knew it was a loaded question the moment that she asked, but it didn’t hurt to watch his dimples strain some composure. “Well, if you don’t mind the audience, love, I have some sheep to tend to,” he raised along with his brow and gestured into the barn.

Caroline glanced around before she took the lead inside. She had been hoping for some undivided attention during the interview, but an interview surrounded by farm animals was better than being sent away empty-handed.

The earthy smell of mud and odors of questionable sources overwhelmed her and she could hear his breathy smirk as she scrunched up her nose. He carried forward in front, beginning to wrangle a sheep out of the pen and into the open space.

“I guess I’ll pull up a,” she paused to study the grass and hay scattered surroundings until her eyes settled, “bucket.”

Caroline was aware of his quiet breath of amusement, but threw her hair back. She stepped carefully to turn over the bucket, crouching until she sat on the cold metal. When she watched him begin to remove the sheep’s wool, her nose scrunched and he soon glanced at her in intrigue.

“Problem?”

She shifted on the bucket and shrugged, her eyes on the blank faced sheep in his hold. “She just looks a little uncomfortable.”

“Unfortunately, shearing involves getting them in some uncomfortable positions,” Klaus informed her with a thin grimace that was soon overtaken by a smile. It reminded her of the photo her younger self had plastered to her wall; his dimples were mesmerising. “But let’s not digress.”

“Right,” she replied swiftly, her eyes wide. With a short clearing of her throat, she began, “So, I work for this really small paper in this really small town in Virginia— I mean, it’s not the _smallest_ , but there’s kinda nothing happening there. Like, seriously, the biggest event of the year is probably this gala that celebrates these _ancient_ -ass families that founded the town.”

“When do we get to the part that concerns me?”

Her wide eyed expression fell flat as she shot him a glare. “I’m getting there.”

“My apologies,” he replied with a lazy smile before readying a pair of shears.

“Anyway, I really wanted to get out and report on real news, but I can’t just rock up to the New York Times like ‘hey, here’s this cool article I wrote on apple picking’, right? And one day, I was visiting my mom and I saw this photo of you on m—” she cleared her throat, earning an eyebrow raise from the man, “on the...internet...and it got me thinking! No one, not even your _national newspapers_ were digging into your disappearance.” He offered her his engaging eye contact every few moments as he proceeded to retrieve another sheep. “I mean, come on, a prince mysteriously abdicates from his position and what? The Times, Daily Mail, even _The Sun_ all say the same thing! That you were tired of royal life and were retiring to a _private estate_ on the edge of London!” She folded her arms, a smug grin on her face. “But I didn’t buy it.”

“Of course, the tabloids like to _think_ they know where I live, but that’s just a decoy set by my family,” Klaus mused as his shears removed layers of thick wool from the animal. He paused, leaning onto one side in his crouch before throwing a question her way, “And what other spectacular deductions did you make?”

Having only been in the country a day or two, she was still getting used to that dry wit, but his warm voice only conveyed admiration to her. She bit her lip at the small victory and rolled her shoulders back as he sheared off one last patch of wool. It was when he returned the sheep behind the gates that she provided further answers.

“Okay, well, I knew there had to be something that triggered it. And then I realised that when I was growing up, our news stations would constantly broadcast these press conferences and paparazzi footage of you and your family. So, uh, I spent hours watching and re-watching...you...“ Caroline twisted her lips at the embarrassing tidbit as his eyes sparkled with intrigue. She cleared her throat and fiddled with her hands. “Anyway, I was beginning to think it was all one big dead end. I mean, _seriously_ , you guys are so tight-lipped!”

Klaus dusted off his hands, pulling over a small, metal drum to sit opposite her. “A royal trait.”

Caroline leaned forward, resting on her knees. “Well, it’s annoying.”

“Noted.” His eyes refused to leave hers until she glanced away. He sighed and straightened up with folded arms. “I’m assuming you caught something?”

“Mhm.” She tried her best to not overflow with excitement, but her smile was too strong to hold in. Pointing a finger in the air and squinting her eyes, she recounted joyfully, “Five months before your eighteenth birthday, an interviewer asked you where you wanted to travel next and you said ‘I hear that North Wales is lovely this time of year’.”

She wondered if the twitch in his lips was positive, but he turned his head to the rest of the barn before she could deduce it. “So you based your findings on a frivolous question?”

“No,” Caroline drawled in irritation, gaining his attention, “I _based_ it on the fact that when you said it, your father King Mikael looked like he was about to murder a puppy.”

“Another royal trait,” he quipped but was met with a steady frown. He inhaled softly and sighed out, “And what then?”

She regarded him for a moment to wonder whether this extensive search did more for his ego than her own prospects. Carefully, she replied, “And then I searched every single connection you had to North Wales.”

“It’s a vast stretch of land.”

“That _you_ have a connection to.”

“Do I?” His gaze was curious, and paired with that damn set of dimples, she could barely keep her urges at bay.

Caroline resolved to get up from the little, metal bucket, in both an attempt to ease her aching buttocks and to avoid looking at him any longer. She paced across the muddied space of the barn, regurgitating the information purposefully, “In 1991, your family hired a butler by the name of Ansel Lloyd. He was photographed on numerous occasions with you and your siblings.” She looked over at him momentarily; his expression was utterly blank. She took a change of direction, slowly stepping away from the gated areas. Whether he was listening or not, she couldn’t be sure, but she continued on, “Five years later, he was involved in an accident resulting in the loss of his right leg. Your father released a statement that he would be retiring to his family’s farm in Pen…”

She pursed her lips and let them twist as her brain tried to unfurl each syllable. It was then that his hushed voice tickled the back of her neck, “Penrhyndeudraeth.”

Caroline pressed her lips together, so conscious of his body heat radiating against her back. She turned slowly on her heel, lifting her head to mutter, “Thank you.” Her eyes unwillingly engaged with his. Within those pools of dark blue, she noted the flecks of warmth. She finally huffed and rolled her eyes. If she wasn’t so determined to finish her story, she would have acknowledged that pang of guilt when he dropped his head. Instead, she moved around him and said, “So anyway, I hopped on a plane, took, like, a billion trains...and then used the handy dandy Translate app on my phone because I read that people ‘round here prefer Welsh over English and I didn’t want to be rude but as you can see, my skills of pronunciation are kinda...” her voice trailed out and she spun in his direction. “That’s not important. I found you.”

His hands were shoved into his jean pockets and he kicked at the scattered hay beneath his feet. “I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he mused, slowly bringing his eyes to hers.

She allowed herself a triumphant smile and crossed her arms. “Your turn.”

Klaus studied her expression but moved across the barn until they were inches apart. “Are we working on an ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ basis now?”

Though her tongue ran along the inside of her mouth in amusement, Caroline swallowed hard and bit out, “I’m not sure what you thought this would lead to, but I’m not some dumb, small-town girl who came looking for a...quick roll in the hay.”

“But _you_ have thought about it?” he dared to ask, his head dipping slightly. Another moment of her defiant glare and he faltered, parting from the space. She felt a strange chill as he stepped back, but rolled her shoulders nonetheless. With the utmost sincerity, he tilted his head her way, “I apologise, sweetheart. Shall we begin the interview?”

Caroline bit her lip. Despite his charming good looks and...well, charming everything, she was there for only one reason: to get information. And so far, the only information was coming right from her lips. “First, how much are you willing to tell me?”

“Everything,” he paused, seeming to admire the instinctive excitement in her eyes, “on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“Dinner.”

“Dinner?” Caroline questioned dully. “ _Please_ , you really think you’re worth that much time and energy?”

That caused no harm to his smug expression, the grin on his face only growing. “I don’t mean to be pedantic, love, but you _did_ fly across the ocean just to see me,” he noted casually, stepping towards her once again. “Come on, take a chance.” For a man so isolated from society for the last ten years, he had no issues in delivering a devastating temptation. His voice sang humorously, “I make a lovely Lamb Cawl.”

She glanced around at the crowd of sheep and winced, “I think I’ll pass on that.”

Klaus chuckled; it was an adorable sound, she decided. “I can see the dilemma…” Glancing down for a moment, he suggested, “Well then, how about some Welsh Rarebit?”

When Caroline studied his expression, she was overcome by the hopeful glint in his eyes. Without an interview, she would have wasted both time and money. She just couldn’t go back home like this, not when she had teased such a ‘life-changing’ piece of journalism to her doubtful family and friends. And she _was_ hungry.

* * *

It seemed he was prepared to make her suffer for as long as he deemed fit. He had taken her to the cottage that stood adjacent to an out of use mill. The inside was small and cosy but not befitting of royalty. The stairs were directly across from the front door, only a muddy welcome mat to separate them. He rid himself of those thick rubber boots and she followed suit with her poorly chosen wedges. To the left of the stairs was the kitchen area. An old, oak dining table for four stood in the centre where he led her to sit. The cobblestone walls on the outside were matched with the walls of the kitchen and a small, flower patterned couch was nestled in the corner.

All the while, he offered not a single word. She watched him intently as he crafted the aforementioned dish. He had removed his fleece when they arrived, tossing it on the couch, and she bristled at the sight of his plaid shirt clinging desperately to his body before carefully placing her own coat atop the armrest. The whole scene reminded her of Cameron Diaz and Jude Law in The Holiday. She shoved that thought down as soon as it had come to her; he was attractive but she was _so_ not going there.

When he set the plates on the table, she came to realise that despite sounding as though it involved the slaughter of a cute little bunny, Welsh Rarebit was just an elaborate take on cheese on toast. That was something she was happy to digest; the plane food had been questionable and when she dropped her belongings off at the bed and breakfast, she had been too focused on finding him to stop for a bite.

As Klaus sat down opposite her, rolling his sleeves up, she bit down on her lip. 

“How long have you been a journalist?”

“I graduated four years ago.”

“Why this profession?”

“I like the truth.” When his teasing grin was joined by a rising brow, she faltered, “My dad used to lie to my mom a lot...and then my mom would lie to me so searching out the answers for myself became a hobby.”

“You certainly have a talent for it,” he mused softly. “And yet, you are still working for a small newspaper in a _small_ town in Virginia.”

“It’s not that easy to leave.”

“Sure it is.” Klaus shrugged and gestured to himself. “I am the prime example.”

As tempted as Caroline was to laugh, to return his flirtatious banter, suspicion gnawed at her insides. The way he engaged with her, it was all too easy. She sat with a careful watch of his movements, resisting the shiver when his brow lifted.

“So, is this game as fun for you as it is for me?” Caroline proposed the sharp question and rested her elbows against the table.

“Game?”

“You know.” She sucked gently on her teeth, gesturing to the room. “The one where you and your rugged good looks lure some innocent journalist into your freaky farm sex fantasy.”

His blank expression left her flushing instantly—had she really said it like _that_?—but he soon broke out into a chuckle.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he assured but continued to laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, I know—” he lifted a glass of water, expelling a huffing laugh as he brought it to his lips.

“Then why are you laughing?” She folded her arms tightly, resting them under her chest. “I can’t be the _only_ person to have found this place.”

When Klaus viewed her glaring eyes across the table, he pursed his grinning lips. “Sweetheart, as much as I may be tickled by your _freaky sex farm fantasy_ ,” she held a groan at the punishing drag of his notes, “I assure you that is not the case.”

“Then what is?” Caroline shot back. She was afraid that if she let the conversation lull, her eyes would betray her as they passed over him, lingering on those soft lips he had weaponised against her. “I held up my end of the deal.”

Though she clenched her jaw, he simply raised both eyebrows. “See, I was under the impression that dinner involved eating.” He gestured to the plate of food beneath her.

Caroline let her lips part slowly, a stab of arousal inflicting her when he glanced at them unabashedly. _Fine_ she thought and gripped the piece of toasted bread, taking a generous bite into it. She had been prepared to send him a spiteful smile, but when the savoury flavours of cheese and cayenne pepper hit her tongue, she moaned softly. At that moment, she swore that her lazy grilled cheeses were a thing of the past.

When she finally came to set the rarebit back down, dusting her fingers on the napkin beside her, she declared airily, “It’s good.”

His eyes had been watching her every expression, flashing with intrigue at her short compliment. “I’m glad.” He clasped his hands and sighed. “I suppose you would like to prepare your tape recorder now.”

The sudden arrival of the interview sent a shock wave through her. She soon cleared her throat and nodded. She had left her notepad and pen in the pocket of her coat so she resolved to retrieve her phone from her jean pocket. With a few nervous touches and swipes, she pressed record and set the device on the table.

“If you could state your name and your approval of this interview,” her voice was timid as she made the request. The last interview she had conducted was with the local farmer’s market; there was a shortage of stall slots. Even she was aware of how pathetic it sounded.

“What crime am I being charged with, sweetheart?” She only offered a brittle look and he relented with a smile. “I am Niklaus Mikaelson, former Prince,” he shot her a wink and she refused even a twitch of her lips, “and I approve of this interview.” His wording had her releasing an unwilling laugh. Her heart fluttered when he presented a boyish smile in response.

Caroline had caught herself staring for a moment too long when he lifted one brow. Adjusting herself in her seat, she croaked out her question, “Following your eighteenth birthday, you left your position in the Royal Family. Why?”

“Why not?”

“ _Klaus_.”

Saying his name aloud and so sternly, it felt strangely invigorating.

Though he grinned at first, Klaus soon sighed and crossed his arms. “Some time before my birthday, I came into the knowledge that my standing in the family was most illicit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not Mikael’s son.”

Caroline stilled, analysing his very stoic expression. Slowly, she asked, “How did you figure it out?”

“One night, while Mikael dealt me his usual beatings,” he paused, pursing his lips at the sight of her horrified expression, “he admitted such.”

“So he forced you out.”

“No. I left on my own accord.” Klaus took a moment to wet his lips, looking aside as he explained, “With no right to the throne and, quite frankly, no desire to withstand any more abuse, I decided to leave.”

“How did your family react?”

“Well, you’ve seen royal announcements, I’m sure,” he pointed out drily, directing a dull gaze her way. “I left a lengthy note on my dresser.”

“Why did you come here to your butler’s farm?”

“Ansel Lloyd was my real father,” he answered both swiftly and firmly. “It seems that King Mikael had learned this information long before I had...in 1996.” His smile was dark, chilling almost.

“You mean…”

“Unfortunate accidents happen, as the official statement read.”

Caroline pressed her lips tightly, ruminating on her next question as the unsettling revelation settled within her. Straightening her back, she posed the next question, “How did you come into contact with your father?”

“Much like you did, I turned up without notice.”

“Did he know?”

“Yes. He always knew.” Klaus leaned back in the chair, beginning to trace patterns on the table with his index finger. “I suppose that and his continual contact with my mother led to the loss of his leg.”

Caroline had no follow-up question to offer. His matter-of-fact demeanour on such devastating subjects was an odd experience. He seemed to sense as much, smiling sympathetically.

“By the time I had arrived, he was struggling to keep this farm going.” He sighed before continuing, “His own father had passed away the previous year and despite the prosthetic replacement, it doesn’t _quite_ beat the real thing.”

“So you helped out,” left her lips without a thought.

“Yes, until his death last year.” When her jaw fell open, he lamented rather calmly, “Heart attack.”

“I’m...sorry.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Klaus slowly brought himself to lean in, settling an arm against the table. “He left me this farm in his will and I somehow couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

As Caroline listened to his sad tale, she found herself conflicted. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as the words repeated themselves in her mind. “I can’t publish this,” she blurted out and pushed herself up from the chair.

Klaus’ head twitched and his brows furrowed. “You can’t?”

She shook her head once again and rushed past him, collecting her coat on the way. “No. This isn’t some fluff piece, Klaus,” she came to a standstill by the front door, shoving her arms into her coat, “This is an expose. This is...your life!”

He was up in mere seconds, following her out to the entryway. “One that I am happy to share with you.”

“But are you happy to share it with the world?” Caroline turned to face him, gasping quietly at his nearing presence.

Klaus stepped closer, looming over frame with a hushed confession, “After ten years of silence, love, I am open to anything.”

She swallowed that nagging desire with a defiant stare. “Well, I won’t do it.”

“Caroline.”

“No. I thought this would be some cute little ‘why I traded in my crown for rain boots’ piece, not ‘my not-father, the KING, is an attempted murderer’!” She huffed out a laugh and shook her head again. “I can’t do it.”

“Then don’t.” She felt her heart stop when his hands curled around her arms and his eyes willed her contact. “But stay.”

“I…”

“Please.”

Those deep blue irises of his were entrancing as he pleaded with her. She was suddenly so aware of the way their bodies gravitated into each other’s space. Every rational thought was begging her to just leave and pretend like she hadn’t stumbled and passed up on what could be the most defining moment of her career, but her heart was beating like a drum. Forgoing all doubts, she swiftly rushed upwards and kissed him.

Caroline was almost thrown back at his mirroring actions as he pulled her into his embrace. His soft lips moved roughly against her, his fingers grasping at the long, blonde locks of her hair. Her eyes fluttered closed and she locked her arms around his neck. He stepped back effortlessly, pulling her along with him as he travelled up the stairs. They fumbled with every step, desperately reconnecting whenever they broke contact.

His tongue wrestled with hers and she groaned into his mouth. She gasped as she tripped over the final step but he pulled her in close once again, fingers clamping around her waist. She could feel the trickling arousal in her panties and took in his lips with a heavy breath through her nose. She ripped apart the metal snaps lining down his shirt and he adjusted as she pulled it down his arms until it hit the floor. He, in turn, removed her coat, throwing it carelessly against the steps behind her.

Like clockwork, Klaus had lifted her into his arms, his thumbs locking over her knees. He pressed her back against a nearby doorway, the hard frame no worry to her back as she was engrossed in his mouth. Soon, he wandered backwards into his bedroom, feathering kisses along her jawline as she peeked at their surroundings. It was so very bare, not a single trace of his life in any of the decor.

He laid her against the mess of pillows, knocking a small velvet one off the bed, and ran his hands down the length of her body. His fingers danced around the fabric edge of her blouse before shifting it upwards. She arched her back in aid and lifted her head as he pulled the cotton shirt over.

Caroline became so awestruck by his heavy gaze, her throat swelling as he threw the blouse across the room. His lips pressed firmly against the nape of her neck and she shivered at the harsh brush of his facial hair. His tongue darted out, swirling along her clavicle and over the mounds of her breasts. She pushed her chest into him instinctively, reaching behind herself to free the clasp of her bra. He pulled the bright, yellow straps down her arms and she pulled it away to reveal her bare chest.

Klaus admired her with the darkest of eyes, muttering against her skin, “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed but with his tongue twirling around her nipple, she was left in a heated daze. She whimpered every time his teeth nipped her and his fingers rolled the neglected nub between them. She was so frustrated but turned on by his sexual prowess and attention to her body; those ten years away from the public eye had clearly been no hindrance.

He removed himself from her chest, leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of her breasts to the edge of her jeans. He unbuttoned them and lowered the zipper slowly, his teasing stare driving her crazy. She hadn’t needed to say a word as he hooked his fingers under her panties, removing both layers in one go. He threw them off the bed before tending to the dip in her thigh, pressing chaste kisses along the inside.

When she growled impatiently, his smirk pressed against the inside of her thigh and he bit gently. She gasped and he took the opportunity to place his mouth against her clit, licking roughly at the area. She exclaimed a soft, “Shit,” and let her head fall back.

Caroline found herself wrapping her fingers around his curls, pressing him gently into her core. He lapped up her juices, musing about how wet she had become, but she was lost in the pleasure that it barely registered. He sucked gently, his tongue still brushing against her in intervals. There was something so sweet about the way his eyes drifted to hers every few moments, darkly gauging her reaction.

Klaus lifted his head and trailed his index finger up and down her slit. Glancing at her once again and grinning when she provided a glare. His finger traced around her entrance and he kissed her clit as he pushed his finger inside her.

“Oh my…” she had begun softly, but then he added another finger and she groaned, “Like that….Klaus.”

He moaned into her pussy, once again lapping his tongue against her, and curled his fingers. It was quiet, but she gasped at the contact. He grinned as she continued to tense under his tongue, his teeth nipping at her clit. He increased his ministrations, sucking on her core with a hum and pushing his fingers deeper.

Caroline could feel her climax nearing and instinctively tugged on his sandy curls. She wouldn’t admit it so easily, but it had been so long since someone had taken so much care with her. The pickings in her town were scarce when it came to offering a woman pleasure. But Klaus was doing unholy things to her that she would never forget. Her body spasmed gently at the repetitive contact of his tongue against her. When his fingers sped up and he licked her cunt roughly, she cried out.

Caroline let out a whining sigh, her head falling back against the pillow. His rising gaze thrilled her and he crawled to meet her lips. She groaned softly at the taste of herself, running her hands along the front of his chest. She soon found his belt and unhooked it in a timely fashion, grinning against his lips when he helped her remove his pants.

Klaus pulled away, the cold enveloping her lips making her ache for him. He quickly managed his jeans off and threw them onto the growing pile on the floor. He came to a stop before her, eyeing her lazy frame.

“Did you by chance bring a condom on this trip, love?” When she raised a brow, he offered innocently, “Safety is a big priority of mine.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stifle her grin, clasping her hands behind his neck to force him back into her grasp. With her voice hush, she informed him, “I’m on the pill.”

He kissed her harshly, his teeth grazing her lip, and lined her hips up against him. His nails dug gently into her skin and she mewled. Without another second to spare he pushed his hard cock into her, growling against her lips, “Admit it, love, you wanted me the moment you saw me.”

Caroline groaned, happily welcoming the swipe of his tongue against her chest, “Yes. Fuck yes.”

Klaus thrust into her, running his hand over her stomach as his free hand took hold of her waist. She bucked her hips up into him and he grunted. All that tension they had built over the hours was overflowing; they both urged to pleasure the other.

“Harder!” she demanded.

He loomed over and pushed into her with a skilled force, thumbing her clit tentatively. Caroline moaned a plea as her fingers traced the grooves of his back. She scratched away at his skin and he growled, thrusting harder and faster.

She could feel herself reaching the edge once again and grooved her hips in time with his. His mouth clamped over the base of her neck, sucking at the tender areas he had inflicted prior. His fingers swiped against her clit and he rolled his hips firmly. “Shit!” a desperate sob leaped from her as she came.

He rode into her, panting as her desperate eyes begged for more. He straightened back and took hold of her hips roughly, her hair becoming a mess of blond against the pillow as her body writhed under him.

Klaus finally came to a thundering climax, growling and shuddering over her frame. His tensed muscles slowly relaxed as she released a heavy sigh and ran her hand over the front of his chest. He placed more kisses along her neck before landing in the space next to her, his fingers straying across her waist.

Caroline stared, wide-eyed, up at the ceiling. “I just fucked a prince,” she let out in an exasperated breath.

Klaus’ dark chuckle was an unfair sound. He slowly rolled his head her way and corrected smugly, “ _Former_ prince.”

“Oh that’s _so_ much better.”

**Author's Note:**

> **COMMENTS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED**


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